Voyeurism At It's Worst
by CayshaGriffin
Summary: I didn't mean to see Batman and the Joker kissing, it just happened! Batman/Joker slash, slight OC voyeurism. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or Joker, I wish I did. But I do own Desarai, so no stealing her if you please.

Author's Note: Pure crack. I wrote this in less then an hour and was laughing the whole time I wrote it. Hope you enjoy, I'm still deciding whether I should continue this or leave it as a one-shot. And yes, this is slash, so if you don't enjoy that, why exactly are you reading this? XD

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Everyone in Gotham knows who Batman and the Joker are. At least half of the population has claimed to have seen Batman, at least a quarter have seen the Joker. And an amazing seventy-five percent blames one or both of them for the death of a loved one. Still, only about fifteen percent have walked away from one of the Jokers heists alive or been saved by Batman.

It might seem like useless math. Still, everyone in this city had some kind of experience that was singular and at the same time common in a place that has become a playground for vigilantes and Halloween villains for the last year.

But seeing Batman and the Joker kissing? As far as I know I'm special when it comes to that experience. And for the love of god, I'm not some faghag who got obsessed enough to follow these two around with delusions of grandeur that they were secretly a couple. It just all ended up being one big surprise to me. Just like it was a surprise to them when they saw me falling through the ceiling.

Okay, let me explain this. I feel the sudden need for a living will anyway.

My names Desarai Collins, Dezzy for short, and no I don't like it as much as everyone thinks I should. I used to be a scab nurse at Gotham General…I've been out of work for a few months now while they rebuild it.

Because of this wonderful lack of income I've had to downgrade my lifestyle. Moving out of Gotham proper and into the Narrows was the part I put off until rent came around and I had to bite my lip and get it over with.

The place isn't too bad, I actually found out there is a good and a bad neighborhood system to the Narrows. It's simple, the farther away from Arkham the better. Plus, I've been told by my new neighbors that if I'm ever really strapped for cash that they have street corner openings for me. Gotta love thoughtful pimps.

In between taking the bus to every hospital in Gotham in search of work I've been helping my landlord renovate some of the old apartments above mine for extra money. Using the sledgehammer was a great way to work out my anger issues over the whole situation.

Well, it was one of those rare days that the landlord didn't need my help, the stoners next door were quiet and I had nothing to do but stare at the cracking ceiling plaster. So I was perhaps more suicidal then usual and decided to have a nice walk through the Narrows at night. Really it hadn't been that bad, even the air had been a little clearer that night and no one bothered me. I didn't know then that there was a very good reason for that.

I was cutting through an abandoned building that someone had conveniently put in between me and my building on the way back when I heard noises. And these weren't mice noises, not unless the mice were some sixty pounds each and kickboxing.

It was coming from underneath my feet, I had to have been on the second floor or there was a basement. The floor shook, kicking up dust and I stepped back carefully. For all I knew the floor was about to cave from an earthquake, don't laugh, this is Gotham. If you can turn the Narrows into Mario Brothers on crack with some funny gas then we can have earthquakes.

While I was contemplating which direction to run out of the building my foot moved over a hole in the floor. I saw some quick movement pass by the hole and stopped in my tracks. Was that green?

I quickly went from an escape plan to lying on my belly with my eye squinting through the peephole. Properly named in this instance if the show I was getting wasn't porn movie fodder. I mean, come one, who hadn't at least thought about this being possible. Not me, but I wished I had.

At first it just looked like the Joker, yes that Joker, was attacking a wall. Very enthusiastically I might add. I would have laughed if I didn't enjoy life. But when the shadows moved and I saw that it was a very real person doing a dance with Gotham's favorite madman that any horny teenager would recognize I had to slap a hand over my mouth to not make a noise. To this day I don't know if that noise would have been a hysterical laugh or a girlish squeel.

I mean, it was nothing x-rated, but you try not to react when you catch Batman and his arch nemesis making out in the bottom of an abandoned building. Okay, making out is the wrong term when it comes to these two, trying to devour each other is probably the best term. And it was not gentle.

Now, I've never been a huge fan of gay porn or anything, I can flip past Queer as Folk without a quickened heartbeat and systematically enjoy it when nothing else is on. But I won't lie when I say watching these two was making me tingle in all the right places. I told myself I could be ashamed of myself later, when I wasn't hanging over my own death. That was about the time I realized I should be leaving.

I was waylaid for a few minutes when I heard the Joker whimper. I mean, he whimpered! I've never in my villain fearing life thought I could hear a man make such a wanton noise. Obviously I'd been doing the wrong thing for years, or I just wasn't Batman.

They changed position, Batman turning them around to slam the Joker back against the wall, not even breaking the kiss to do it. I was trying to figure out how Batman was breathing with that mask on when he started to peel it off. He didn't even manage to get it over his nose before I bolted upwards and away from the hole.

No! Do not want! Of everything, a peep show was fine. But I did not want to know who Batman was, just like I didn't want to see too much of the Joker's paint come off and realize he might be one of my neighbors.

Unfortunately, I had moved a little too quickly on a rickety old floor and there was a doomsday crack of wood in my ears before that very floor gave out and I went plummeting down. I hit ground level with enough force to hear bells ring in my ears and curse out loud.

For a few minutes I was too preoccupied with all the parts of me that were screaming in pain to realize the true horror of my current predicament. I was bleeding in a few places and my foot was turned at a funny angle, but all in all I'd been lucky.

The sudden, matter of fact smack of lips that I knew from tv made it very clear though that I really wasn't that lucky. I looked up to see two very surprised costumed men staring at me and the pieces of floor that had come down along for the ride.

Ever seen pure shock on a man wearing greasepaint or leather? It's fucking hysterical, especially when you realize you're officially dead and they'll never find your body, or they will, but in a million pieces across the city.

I opened my mouth to do something, expecting a laugh or a plea for mercy. Instead one word passed my lips along with a goofy grin.

"Hi."

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P.S. Reviews make me a happy author. X3


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the boys, I do own the girl. So please don't take her.

Author's Note: Thank you for all the lovely reviews everyone. X3 I decided to continue this story after all and it has one more chapter to go. I love three parters anyway. So I hope you guys enjoy!

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So you're probably wondering how I've managed to live long enough to write this. Funny thing, I'm about as surprised as you are.

Well, I actually thought I was living my last moments while I shared a stunned staring contest with the two most dangerous men in Gotham. The Joker recovered faster then either of us and cocked a brow at me, or at least I think he did. I can say for a fact that one of the large black circles around his eyes got larger in a pissy way.

"Do you mind?"

Not, 'any last words' or 'want to know how I got my scars'. Nope, ' Do you mind?' Somehow that actually made me feel more chastised about the whole thing then threatening my life would have. Go figure.

I managed to open my mouth and do, what I can only imagine, was a fantastic impersonation of a gaping fish. To my credit though, Batman looked about as baffled as I did. Again, I'm basing it on the fact that a man wearing a constricting mask on had something other then stony as an expression, so it could have been constipation for all I know.

"I…umhh." I snapped my mouth shut until I remembered how to put two syllables together. I wanted to at least be articulate in death. "I'm sorry?"

Two large rows of a dentists worst nightmare grinning at me between two blood red lips made me realize this was probably not the winning answer. A flash caught my eye and a knife that had not been out a moment ago was tapping against the Joker's hip. Fucker did that on purpose! And it was pretty effective because I even heard myself swallow.

"Oh, not as much as you're going to be girly." He purred.

I was just being spoiled with this symphony of noises the man was capable of.

There was an odd creak and flutter and I found myself staring at a wall of black. A few blinks, one rasping voice later and it was plain that Batman had stepped between me and the Joker. Did I ever mention that I always knew Batman was a good guy? Not that kissing the Joker was a great testament to his mental stability but every hero needs a dysfunction, right?

"Let her go."

There was a moment of silence and I had to peek around Batman's caped back, feeling like the weakling being protected from the school bully, except the bully was more efficiently equipped for silencing the witnesses.

"But Batsy, she's just gonna go tell," the Joker whined. Wow, he must have been one bratty kid. His eyes locked on me and glared, that harmless little whine turned into a feral growl. "And that can't happen!"

About this point my hand had fisted in a tail end of Batman's cloak like a safety blanket, how long would he last as a living shield?

"No, she won't," Batman said matter of factly and I felt another set of eyes burning a hole into my head and looked up. Great, Batman was looking at me like a threat now too.

I had to dart a tongue over my lips so I could speak and stopped mid motion when I noticed the Joker copying the motion with a little smirk. Hmm, creepy.

"…As far as I'm concerned, I heard a couple of oversized rats kickboxing in the basement and kept going." I insisted. And there again was that incredibly morbid, but none-the-less amusing puzzlement on both their faces.

Right, because what I just said didn't sound crazy at all.

"Never saw a thing," I clarified quickly. "Cross my heart!"

Still the Joker looked almost pleadingly at Batman and I learned how to breath again when the vigilante shook his head. "I'll take her home."

And before I knew it Batman had a hold of my arm and was hoisting me up to my feet. The one leg that had been twisted at a funny angle made that difficult.

"Oww!" I snapped a little pointedly and the Bat got the point.

"Can you walk?"

I gave him a look that did not need a vocal response. Moments later I let out a shocked squeak as he picked me up bridal style, face as friendly as a gravestone.

No, this wasn't awkward.

A huff brought our attention back to the Joker who looked like a perfectly kicked puppy. I don't know how it was possible he made me feel bad for him not being able to kill me, but he did. And I gripped a little desperately at Batman so we could maybe leave a little sooner then later.

"Fine!" The snarl that tail ended that single word made my blood chill as the clown turned on his heel and stormed out.

The silence that followed his exit was enough that I had to clear my throat and try and fill it. But the living stone beat me to it.

"Where do you live?"

Right, so here I had a very important choice. I could either, tell the truth and risk repeated visits attached with pretty threats, or I could lie and hobble it back home from wherever I had him drop me off.

I just wasn't stupid enough to think he wouldn't follow me if I pulled that stunt, so I mumbled out my address with as much dismay as possible.

It was an…interesting trip back. We spent a lot of the time using the back alleys and turned a trip that normally took me five minutes on foot, took us twenty on his. I was not particularly amused by this and my heart was not racing with that bedazzled girly feeling I had always expected to feel when being carried around by Batman. It probably had something to do with the my now knowing the guy was batting for the other team.

One abrupt, stony , no kiss goodbye drop off later, I had the door bolted and locked before his cape even disappeared around the corner. I locked the windows for good measure and my bedroom door before I curled up in every blanket and I owned and turned my pillows into a mini fort any ten year old would be proud of. All I was missing was the popgun.

So, I woke up today amidst a sad little destroyed fort. And if the little limp I have isn't proof enough that last night did happen, I don't know what is. This is simply a precaution, I don't think Batman will let something happen to me. But that doesn't something wont' happen.

If you happen to find this I suggest you…Hold on, someone's at the door.

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P.S. I'm still incredibly in love with reviews. XD


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Dezzy, so please don't take her.

Author's Note: You guys are all wonderful for commenting. It looks like this story just won't die. There are more chapters coming, though I won't know how many. I think for sure just one more, but I also said this was the last chapter, so stay tuned. Hope you enjoy!

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For future reference, never open the door when someone actually _knocks_ on it when the rest of the people you know haven't yet learned this courtesy. Usually it means the bill collectors finally found your change of address or a homicidal maniac is paying you a house call.

I didn't just fling the door open, that's what peepholes are for. And yes, I was very aware of the irony that this was exactly what got me in trouble in the first place. But at least this one was legal.

Right, so staring through the peephole, I was a little confused. Usually I don't have ghosts in my hallway but for a loud knock, the person was very invisible. Then I heard a clinking noise and the small window was suddenly filled by a yellowish Cheshire grin.

"Nursing agency!" The grin said cheerfully, fogging the glass with his breath for a moment.

"Scab nurse," I said back, almost as brightly. I was feeling pretty brave with only an old wooden door and three rusty bolts between me and certain doom. But hey, it was one of those weeks.

"Fuck."

I smirked, watching his face distort and resume some semblance of a normal shape as he pulled back from the door to furrow his brow in what looked like intense concentration. A very pink, human colored brow. Fuck indeed. I just wasn't sure which one of us was fucked more at the moment.

I mean, did he really think no one was going to recognize him without the make-up?! Not a lot of Glasgow smiles walking around Gotham last time I looked.

The Joker's face cleared a moment later and I saw him shrug, there was that clinking noise again. "You gonna let me in anyway?"

"No!"

I wasn't some dumb as dirt blond, I was one of the elite ones that went to college, actually finished and wasted another few years to become a nurse kind of blond. That systematically lost her nice paying job to a lunatic with a jonesing for explosives and men in Kevlar and who was now trying to talk his way into my apartment for god knows what.

The Joker let out a little frustrated noise and smacked his lips. He'd missed a few deep crevices in his scars where stubborn splashes of red were still clinging. Maybe he should have asked to use his boyfriends make-up remover before coming over.

Come on, you know Batman wears make-up too!

"That's a real shame…" he mumbled darkly, looking around the cramped hallway something caught the Joker's attention and he visibly perked.

Unfortunately you can't look any direction but straight ahead through a peephole. Believe me, I tried. Because whatever had the Joker looking so pleased was not in my best interest at all.

Suddenly he was back at the door like a kid pressed against a pet shop window, making me jerk back in comparison with a grit of teeth.

"Hey…hey doll. If you don't want to let me in, I bet your friends next door will."

You know…it was really easy to become a very bad person when he said that. But besides Johnny's habit of blowing smoke through the vent I really did like him and the others. Enough to willingly let a psychopathic clown into my apartment to spare a bunch of stoners?

Apparently.

It didn't mean I wasn't allowed to give the door a few vicious kicks before I opened it.

Something the Joker stayed blessedly silent throughout as I indulged in putting a small hole in the door that my landlord would raise the rent for later. If I was still paying rent by then.

I finally opened the door and felt my new force induced serenity shatter into a million pieces at the man standing in my doorway.

The Joker smartly snapped open a pair of raybands and plunked them on his nose with a pleased grin.

"What'd ya think?"

How was I supposed to tell him? Saying he looked like a nerd on his maiden voyage out of his mothers basement was probably not the right response. So I simply stared.

Obviously the fashion victim status the Joker had garnered in costume also translated to what he deemed normal clothing. I'm of course basing this off the glossy leather pants, tucked oh so fashionably into a pair of worn combat boots, topped with one of those tacky Batman t-shirts you can buy at any novelty shop in Gotham. I personally think he was trying to get caught.

"That I'm going to die of embarrassment by association." I said before my survival filter could kick in.

The madman looked thoroughly put out by my response and pulled off the raybands to look down at himself in question.

"What?"

That clinking noise caught my attention again and I finally found it's source in the Jack Daniels bottle and two wine glasses in the Joker's hand. I cocked a brow.

"Were you drinking when you got dressed?"

The Jokers eyes, which were very bright and very green without the make-up, narrowed at me. And I had the good sense to remember who I was talking to and be a little worried.

"You know _what_?" And he drawled the word 'what' in such a way that I wanted to mime it back to him just to see how it felt. Instead I ended up holding my breath to hear 'what' it was. He leaned in and I leaned back, glaring. "You're not a very nice morning person."

I blinked. I really hated him right then.

"Blame it on my night," I bit irritably and pushed the door open all the way. Trying not to slam it in his face instead. "Are you coming in or not?"

He went from the brink of homicidal to beaming in a split second as if this whole little visit had been my idea. "Well if you insist."

I grit my teeth as he pushed past me to get inside. I was not going to strangle the Joker. I was not going to strangle the _Joker_. I was not going to strangle _Batman's_ boyfriend. It was just one of those bad life choices they tried to steer you away from in school.

I slammed the door shut and followed him. The best plan would have been to calm down before I said something stupid.

"So, I guess you're here to finish the job?"

Like that.

Thankfully all I got was a dismal sigh as the Joker tossed one of the DVD's he'd been perusing back on the shelf to look at me. "Unfortunately no," he drawled, attention caught by the array of sun catchers I have in the window. He pawed at them like a cat to see how they reflected. "He told me not to."

"Thank Bats for small favors," I mumbled, watching him with morbid curiosity as he moved to the bookshelves. I swore if he broke that pixie statue all bets were off. But he put it down as quickly as he picked up anything else in the room. "What did he use as incentive, shiny things?"

Snark is my worst enemy.

"_Ha ha_," he said sarcastically before letting out, what I assumed was a growl of boredom before he flopped bonelessly onto my couch, booze carting arm dangling over the armrest. Something about his twitchy movements spoke of un-channeled energy with no escape. "Cute, but _no_. I hurt you and I get nothing for weeks. _Zip_, nada!"

Better known as sexual frustration.

Right, something to remember, the Joker does not deal well with his nookie being threatened. I have no idea how that information will be helpful in the future. But you never know.

"So….why are you here?" I asked, keeping a safe distance from the lazy tiger on my couch. "And how did you know I was a nurse?"

"You have very talkative neighbors." He explained with an exaggerated eye roll as he sunk lower in the couch. I had to smile at that one, he'd obviously talked with Mrs. Moarlin.

"But people are gossipers by nature, _Dezzy_."He said my nickname with that triumphant cat grin and shrugged. "People talk if you ask. Simple."

I was pretty sure his version of asking had more to do with a knife then his natural charm. I was going to have to make a point to check on Mrs. Moarlin later.

"One question answered." I pointed out, resigning myself to sit on the opposite armrest of the couch. "So why are you here if it's not to kill me?"

He smirked and raised the bottle of Jack and sloshed the contents around. I quirked a brow.

"We're drinking?" I asked.

"Yup."

I glanced at the clock and then back at him. "It's not even noon yet."

But he was too busy for a moment with the paper seal on the liquor bottle to answer me right away, so I waited patiently as he figured out the harmless cap invented to stop two year olds with an array of colorful, guttural curses.

He grinned brightly when he finally defeated the safety cap and before I knew it a wine glass had been shoved into my hand and the Joker had the bottle half way tipped over my glass. "It's five o'clock somewhere."

"I'm not drinking!" I snapped sharply, yanking the glass back at the risk of my carpet getting soaked.

Big mistake.

I swear to god it was like someone pressed pause, because neither of us moved for a second while the room temperature dropped. Now I've heard that the Joker being serious is probably the scariest thing this side of a Freddy Kruger film, but I will admit I was a little dubious until I had those bright eyes leveled at me in the creepiest deadpan expression I've ever seen. His voice was a nice granite companion piece to the look.

"You know….I can always tell him it was an _accident_."

I extended my glass without a word of protest and got a large helping of Jack Daniels for the pretty show of submission. When he'd poured himself a glass full, his grin was back in place and he clinked our glasses together cheerfully.

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P.S. I still luvs reviews dearly! XD


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or Joker, I just wish I did. Dezzy, on the other hand, is mine. So please don't take her.

Author's Note: Wow you guys. I'm amazed how many people are keeping an eye on this little fic. And to be honest it is a little mind boggling. I love every single one of your reviews and hope you guys all stay on for the duration of this fic. I blame this chapter entirely on Dezzy and the Joker and their inability to hold their liquor. That is all. Oh, and I hope you enjoy! X3

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Two hours, an empty bottle of Jack Daniels and my emergency bottle of Cuervo later, we were both nursing our respective belly aches and trying not to move too quickly. Nothing fucks up a nice buzz better then mixing the wrongs booze together.

"This is your fucking fault," I accused the prostrate man on my floor while I curled up on the couch in a miserable ball. "Bringing cheap booze to my place and getting me sick."

"It _wasn't _cheap." He grumbled viciously, obviously in no better of a place then I was.

I was shocked by that little announcement. "You actually bought it?"

I got a snort in answer. Right, stupid question. "It's still not cheap."

"Stealing from your boyfriends stock doesn't count," I insisted as I groaned and curled up into a tighter ball. He'd let a few things out in his drunken state. No names or anything, but if some of things these two did on their 'days off' were anything to go by, Batman was loaded.

"Crown Royale, Johnny Walker Blue. _That's_ good whiskey." I'd been waiting all night to mime his vocal pattern back at him and by the Jokers sour look, I hadn't done it very well. "If you weren't going to buy it, you could have at least swiped the good stuff."

"Like your _cheap tequila_?" he shot back as he tried to lay back and slapped both palms against the floorboards like he'd just stopped himself from falling. Funny thing, he hadn't moved from the floor to begin with. "Whoa…that was _weird_."

I was still incredibly insulted by the tequila comment. "You leave my tequila alone. I bought mine!"

The Joker clutched his head and whimpered piteously. "Nhh...no shouting."

Served him right for taking potshots at my legally obtained booze. Truth be told we'd started out pretty pleasantly with the drinking, after a few glasses I wasn't being forced to drink anymore and I ended up loose and giggling along with the idiot on my floor watching re-runs of Ren and Stimpy. It really wasn't a mystery why either of us enjoyed it so much. Booze and gratuitous violence just go hand in hand.

It was when we ran out of whiskey that the trouble began. We'd both stumbled into the kitchen and raided it, choosing the hard liquor over the _pansy drinks_, as my homicidal drinking partner had called them. In other words, my large stock of cheap wine coolers. The only kind of alchohol I could afford in excess. Not too long afterwards we were both paying the price of excess and sheer idiocy.

On top of all that, I found out the Joker could hold his drink about as well as I could. Translation, he was tipsy halfway through the first glass. You just don't expect Gotham's number one crazy to be a lightweight. But there you go.

Back to the two idiots in the apartment.

"Your tequila tastes like ass." The Joker mumbled when his world had finally stopped spinning. It was also apparent he was not done insulting the host.

"Your whiskey tastes like lighter fluid, we're even." I said before trying to sit up, which made my stomach roil. I was on my feet a second later, stepping over the Joker on my speedy way across the apartment.

"Where are you going?" He asked, sounding alarmed by the speed in which I was moving.

"To be sick." I announced and made it to the bathroom, or would have, if I didn't have a Joker wrap his arms around me and haul me back.

"No, no, _no. _No being sick, girly." But by the way he was putting his weight on me to stand those quick as hell actions he'd used without thinking were effecting him too. "We need bubbles."

I honestly thought he was crazy...you know, crazier then I had first thought.

"I need a bathroom, not bubbles." I hissed. "But I'll happily be sick on you if you don't let me go, right now!"

He groaned at my volume, ammo I wasn't about to let go to waste.

"Not bubbles, _bubbles_." He growled and before I knew it I was being hauled off to the kitchen, kicking and scratching the whole way.

There was a sudden drunken purr in my ear that stopped what I was doing immediately.

"Keep that up, I might have to come over more often."

Instant claw retraction.

" Masochistic bastard!" I hissed.

He just chuckled and continued to lead me, more willingly this time, into the kitchen. Keeping a firm grasp on my wrist as he raided the fridge and gave a triumphant giggle as he pulled out a bottle of sprite.

Ohhhhh, bubbles. I stopped fighting.

He held up his prize with a smirk before twisting the cap off. I was just quick enough to snatch it before he drank straight from the bottle.

"Uh-uh, me first." I said while he glared. I wiped off the bottle neck with my sleeve even though he hadn't managed to wrap his lips around it yet. "Who knows where that mouths been."

He leaned against the fridge with a smirk as I swigged back half the bottle in a few swallows and felt the carbonated goodness take effect, calming down the lovely world record of backflips my stomach was trying to achieve.

_"Come on, come on_, share!" He snapped.

Good thing I'd lowered the bottle already or I'd have been wearing it in his eagerness to get it. I watched him passively as he drained the last half of the bottle in one go. The end of my Sprite was punctuated by a lick and smack of lips.

"Where'd you learn that trick?"

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Bats."

I was about to ask more when someone knocked on the door and the Joker grinned. "I'll get it." He chimed before pushing past me to reach the door first.

I almost grabbed his arm and told him it wasn't safe to answer my door when someone knocked. But that was like telling the boogie man that closets were scary and he wouldn't like them very much.

I still raced after him, the Joker was about to answer my door! That couldn't be good for my social likability with the neighbors. I got there just as he opened the door and casually leaned against the doorframe, something he should not be capable of with the amount of liquor he'd consumed, blocking the figure in the doorway.

"_Secret identity central_." He said cheerfully with a slight slur which wasn't far off from how he usually talked. "We're a bit booked up at the moment_. _But if you leave a _number..._"

"Where is she?!"

My eyes widened a might more then a fraction by the very toned down growl. A part of me really wanted to duck for cover as the Joker was forcibly pushed out of the way to admit...someone who had no business being in the Narrows, let alone my crap apartment.

It wasn't one of those, 'oh my god, it's the the eyes' kind of deal or even the chin. Hell, my mind hadn't even registered the obvious clue that the Joker was mocking him that this was Batman. I figured it out rather simply. Bruce Wayne, the god damned Prince of Gotham was in my apartment and that just did not compute in any other way then, Batman was making a house calls now.

A little late to be honest. But I guess it was the thought that counts.

"Told you," the Joker grumped as he shut the door and leaned against it, he looked as if he needed the physical support. "Not a hair out of place on her _pretty_ little head."

I found myself grinning at the 'pretty' comment, even though the context should have disturbed me.

Wayne, on the other hand, looked a little trapped behind the fact that he'd just jumped out of the superhero closet thinking I'd been talked into recreating the ending to Silence of the Lambs while he'd most definitely meant to play the role of average billionaire joe with me and was now caught in the middle of an identity crisis.

It possibly wasn't helping that both Joker and I were grinning at him like a he had male stripper written across his chest. But, like I said, he'd been a little late for the party. And we were just tipsy enough to think about collecting a fine.

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P.S. Reviews are shiny and make me happy. XD


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I only own Dezzy, everything else belongs to DC, Warner Brothers and Christopher Nolan.

A/N: Hello duckies, I'm back with more. The story bit me in the ass again, which makes me happy because I didn't want to leave this one more unfinished series. More on the way, I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you for all your lovely comments and encouragement.

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Here's another bit of advice from your helpful Batman/Joker expert. Never try to jump Batman when both you and your partner in crime are so snockered you can barely stand.

In our own defense we started approaching him at the same time, but that's about where our coordination ended. Also, Bruce Wayne must have eyeballs in the back of his head because I know for a fact he was watching me when he slammed his elbow back which sent the Joker to the ground, clutching his chest.

Want to know how fast I was on the other side of the room? Yeah, lets see Keystone City's wonder boy beat that shit! I was not getting in the middle of this.

The Joker, on the other hand, was whooping up enough laughter to make me shiver while he was curled up in a ball on the floor.

"Wha..." he interrupted himself by laughing again. "What, no hello kiss?"

Wayne glared at him. An expression that didn't look right on a face I constantly saw plastered on the gossip columns with a thousand watt smile permanently affixed to it.

"I told you to stay away from her."

"_Nooooo," _the Joker drawled as he sat up. "You said not to hurt her." The grin he gave Wayne was not the one I'd been getting used to all day, but the one I remembered from last night. Tight and just on the point of breaking the sanity sound barrier. "Should of been more _spe-ci-fic_, Batsy."

Wayne's face got tighter with every word, enough that I was seeking my best option for shelter.

But the Joker just calmly smacked his lips. "But if I knew you were in the _mood_..."

The Joker didn't even finish before Wayne let out a strepp inducing growl and dragged his mad ass off the ground by the tacky yellow bat symbol on his chest. I watched the Joker dangled there with a grin stretching his face.

And I figured this was about the time I should call a time out, or call the police before my apartment turned into ground zero. But I had a sneaking suspicion the cops weren't going to believe I was calling in a case of domestic violence involving a vigilante and an Arkahm escapee. So I grabbed the first thing in reach and hurled it at them.

"Hey! Time out!"

I was about as surprised as Wayne was when I managed to bean him with a throw pillow.

"I'm still in one piece, okay? Almost too drunk to stand, but he didn't turn me into swiss cheese." I clutched my head because my own shouting was making my ears ring. "So can we please...try to lower our voices and have a non-violent conversation."

They looked at me as if I were crazy. Who the hell where they to talk, well adjusted arch nemesis couple that they were?

I grit my teeth. "I know it's probably difficult for you two. But can you at least attempt..."

And I would have said more. That is if gravity weren't such a vindictive bitch as I tried to step off the couch and ended up misjudging the distance. My foot dug at open air desperately as my body moved forward and crashed into the coffee table.

All I heard before I blacked out was a sympathetic. "_Ouch_!"

-----

Waking up, was a wholly new experience. Specifically because it felt like someone was using me as a body pillow.

When I opened my eyes a pair of glinting green ones were staring back at me. To my credit I only jumped when he spoke.

"Hiiiii."

"What are you doing on top of me?" I replied shortly as I realized I was in my own bed, a brief glance down, an even quicker look up and I was very thankful of the blanket separating our bodies. "And why aren't you wearing any clothes?!"

I was far from fearing the idea of rape. The man was gayer then a maypole and I highly doubted after my little incident that Mr. Wayne had left the two of us alone.

"I, uh...lost them." The Joker said, he was obviously making up the answer as he spoke.

I glared up at his grinning face. "And how exactly did you lose them?"

He had the audacity to use my chest as a pillow for his chin. And despite letting out a small grunt of pain when I kicked him for it, he didn't budge. "Maybe _lost_ is the wrong word. More like riiiipped."

Of course that word wreaked havoc on my mind, and shutting my eyes only painted the very vivid images a brighter color. "Please tell me you didn't use the couch." I whimpered piteously.

The Joker looked pretty deep in his own memories with a sly smile. "We didn't get that far..."

"Off!" I shrieked before he could get any farther. "Off now!"

The Joker just chuckled and kept his seat. "Clothes?" He asked curiously.

Oh, so that was what the vile fiend wanted. Damn him!

"The closet on the left." I grumbled and pulled the covers over my head as he bounded off in that direction with a chuckle. It took some debate between my body and brain to decide that it had 'not' been more comfortable with the Joker pressing me into the bed. If I kept mentally chanting 'gay homicidal maniac' maybe my brain would win.

While a madman dug for clothes I took the blankets and fled the room. I considered it a relief I was still in the clothes I'd passed out in.

I needed coffee like a junkie needed a really understanding dealer. But obstacles did tend to get in my way these last few days, and the rather Adonis looking spread of nude man on my floor with various piles of useless clothing and pillows around his snoozing form did count as an obstacle.

One I practically ran past to get towards the kitchen without staring at his pleasantly displayed rump.

I made enough noise in the kitchen to wake half the building while still managing to keep my duvet cape wrapped around my shoulders. And it wasn't until I'd drained a full mug of coffee and refilled it that I dared venturing back into the living room. Wayne hadn't moved, it didn't even look like he'd budged during all the ruckus I'd made.

I quirked a brow and very discreetly dropped my blanket over his possibly freezing backside. Still nothing.

"Mr. Wayne?"

I frowned when he didn't acknowledge me. There's a point to playing possum that's just ridiculous and this was toeing that fine line.

"Bruce?"

I crouched down next to him with a fresh cup of coffee and smiled. "Look if you don't get off my floor and get dressed I'm going to pour hot coffee on your gorgeous bare ass." I said sweetly and started to pull the blanket off to initiate my threat.

And a death grip was just as quickly seized on the covers by the Wayne's hand, brown eyes glaring up at me from the floor. I just smiled, set the coffee down for him and backed away slowly.

I honestly do believe the Joker is scarier then Batman. But Bruce Wayne is a lot scarier then both when he wants to be.

But then when it came to the Joker...he wasn't anywhere in sight. 'Uh oh' didn't exactly cover my thought process at that moment as I left Wayne alone to cool while I went to find his maniacal counterpart.

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P.S. Comments are made of love and make me happy. X3


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Dezzy mine, boys not.

A/N: Lol, took me a while but I'm back. Hope you guys like this small teaser and I'll have more up for you all soon. Thanks for reading!

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My search for said 'maniacal counterpart' turned up fruitless, at first.

The thing is my apartments not that big. And I'm not understating this at all. I have a kitchen, a bathroom, a living room and a bedroom. That's it, fin, finitte, the end. I can walk through all the rooms in under a minute and have time to spare to walk down to street level from my three story apartment and look up to check the itty bitty ledge the landlord had claimed was a nice balcony when I bought the place. You could possibly find the neighbors cat there on occasion but I checked there regardless because I wouldn't put it past the Joker to perch there like one at this point.

Still nothing, and now Wayne was looking at me strangely. At the same time I had one thought that I doubt any sane woman in Gotham would share with me. Thank god he was dressed.

And here ladies and gentlemen was where the fucking lightbulb went off.

"Miss Collins..."

I cut the vigilante off quickly with a wave of my hand.

"Shhh, I'm hunting clown." I told him and as I walked back into my 'empty' bedroom.

But this time I stood in the room for about a minute without making a sound and finally heard the noise I'd been waiting for. A muffled giggle coming from my closet.

I had no idea what game he was playing but I'd already had his unfiltered madness for almost twelve hours and I wanted his boyfriend to take him away pretty soon or I'd be forcibly shoving him over the 'balcony'.

I walked over and knocked on the door. "I know you're in there, Joker." I told him flatly.

His little giggle turned into a dark little chuckle. "Then _come on in.'_" He suggested.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, said the spider to the fly. Get out of my closet. You're too gay for it to contain very much longer."

"You're a _real _kidder, you know that?" He said deadpan, and I took a step back from the closet, just to be sure.

"Joker, get out of my closet." I said a bit more firmly. It was followed by a brief silence that made me uneasy as I heard him shifting and moving fabric.

"No, need Bruce here first." He said decidedly.

It had not passed my attention that Joker had holed himself up in my closet and not the guest space where my ex had left all his stuff. The once lovely doctor I'd dated for four years who could not seem to fathom the downgrade in living circumstances I'd had to take. Not that he tried to help me or anything, unless that included helping me gain more space by the lack of his presence after I went one week without running water which forced me to bums shower time off the neighbors in exchange for cheetos and pop rocks. But whatever the Joker was wearing was never meant to grace a mans body. And I doubted he'd been kind enough to forgo a dress or mini skirt, I'd heard the rumors about his cross dressing habits.

"Fine." I said with slight frustration and went to the bedroom door when something occurred to me and I smiled.

Opening the door as if to walk out, I saw Wayne giving me the strangest look, possibly due to my maniacal grin and closed the door again. Leaving me inside the room with the illusion of having left.

A few seconds later I felt like a god damned genius when the closet door creaked open an inch and then swung open completely to expel the now dressed Joker. Ten seconds later as I focused on what he was wearing, the grin fell.

Now yes, I am a nurse. I happen to be a pediatrics nurse, so yes I have an array of overly colorful, eyesore worthy patterned scrubs in my closet. And yes, I did blow an ungodly amount on a plain blue pair of scrubs once simply because Katherine Heigl had been modeling them in a cardboard cut out of herself in the store window.

Now, did I want to see the Joker parading around in those very scrubs? Not, not really.

But there he was, in all his machiavellian glory in my last pair of nice baby blue scrubs that cost more then his dye job. If at all possible it made him look more like a stick then his own clothes did.

I cleared my throat, trying very hard not to go for the throat and felt a sense of satisfaction in the way the psychopath froze in mid admiration of his figure in my closet door mirror.

"What exactly are you doing?" I asked a little tightly, my smile just a little too wide.

His mouth opened for a second, raising his finger as if to make a very clear point as to why he was doing what he was doing. Then closed his mouth and furrowed his brow, eyes rolled to the ceiling as he thought.

It was gonna have to be a good one to save his Jack Skellington impersonation.

"...Uhhhh..."

Not even close.

Though it was amazing to see how fast he dodged a stiletto heel.

I would not blame Bruce Wayne if he thought I was as coocoo for cocoa puffs as his boyfriend when the two of us came tearing out of my bedroom. Joker at a dead run for his only possible salvation while I chased after him, armed with a fresh pair of three inch heels.

"Human shield!" He declared diving behind the vigilante. "Save me, Batsy!" And a combination of things happened in response to those words.

Which involved the goddamn Batman getting in between me and the Joker, my shrill mouse squeak as I was lifted off the ground and onto the mans shoulder where I clutched onto him for dear life like a cat introduced to it's first flea bath. Followed by the most witheringly parental glare I'd ever seen. Thankfully I wasn't the only one who cowered under the power of that look and either Joker was getting better at that kicked puppy expression or he just had to try harder with Wayne.

Eventually even the mad man buckled under it with a sheepish look. "Love you?" He squeaked.

Bruce just kept on glaring. "We're leaving." He announced.

But as surprisingly disappointed I was with a now accomplished feat I'd been trying to get done all day, my feet sorely missed terra firma and I was all for the man to put me down.

Of course, nothing puts people in that wonderfully ridiculous freeze frame pose as a knock on the door.

"If that's the Riddler, I swear to god I'll gift wrap you both for his spandex clad ass." I hissed.

Unfortunately I recognized the confused voice on other side of the door. "Dezz?"

"Fuck."

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A/N: Reviews make me a happy panda! X3


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I only own Dezzy and Elliot, the other boys belong to DC and Warner Brothers.

A/N: This is a much longer chapter, hope you guys like it and the incredible douche bag I created for your enjoyment. XD

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"And _fuck _is who?" Joker asked curiously, canting his head to the side as he slowly made his way to the door.

Bruce and I both had the same idea and my head swam as I was set down on wobbly legs so the vigilante could tackle the Joker to the ground. The scuffle that ensued to keep the lanky and surprisingly spry psychopath down made my door jiggle.

"Dezz, are you okay? Dezzy?!"

I just stared wide eyed at the blur of bodies, giggling and growling as Bruce tried to keep Joker down. And with the way Joker was retaliating...it was about as hard core porn you could get with clothes on and I gave Bruce a gold star for not attacking the Joker's clothes and take up the offer that limber little blond was obviously presenting with that body language and the, ahem...groans. Hell, I would have folded.

It was about the time I heard. "Dezzy, I'll get help, hold on!"

That my mind snapped out of happy faghag land and jumped over the two struggling bodies. "No, no, it's okay. It's just a few rats." I said before my mind filtered that for more sane viewing.

"What?" Demanded the voice.

"I..I mean cats. A cat got in, scared the dog...I..." blanked. "I have a dog now?"

Joker somehow got too close to me and snapped at my heels with a loud bark and a grin. I jumped away and glared, resisting the urge to kick him in the face when Bruce finally had him pinned.

The door handle jiggled. "Well let me in I can help."

"No! It's fine!" I said through my teeth and pointed at the bedroom so the maniacs would get the message. "I can take care of it myself, hold on a second!" I said loudly.

Turning on the two men sprawled on my floor I hissed. "Get moving, now!"

It took a very impressive move on Bruce's part to lock up the Joker's arms, tossing head and kicking feet. And I was not stupid enough to get near any of those limbs at the moment as the mad man treated it like a game, giggling the whole way every time he managed to get some limb loose only for Bruce to snatch it back into a lock again.

It wasn't until Bruce managed to struggle waltz Joker into the room and slam the door shut that I tried to right myself and realized I hadn't actually changed or showered since that morning and I looked all of crap in my jogging pants and tank top, blond hair twisted up into a sad birds nest of a bun.

I sighed, par for the course when it came to Elliot Michaels being involved.

At least I looked the part of going three rounds with a pair of feuding animals when I opened the door and glared at the beautiful, make Dr. Shepard turn in his hunk badge, Elliot Michaels. I used to really love my paper cut out of an attractive doctor. Now I just stared at him in envy like that three thousand dollar dress in the Sax window that you made the mistake of trying on and found fit you perfectly, unlike the size of your bank account.

Elliot was that same dress on loan to you, complete with a three man guard that made sure you didn't damage it and then take it away right after you got used to wearing it. Except that Elliot took himself away, without warning me he'd left me naked in the process.

"What do you want, Elliot?" I asked, finally feeling the hours I'd been up and overly active.

Elliot just kind of glowed amid all the rot and lack of care in the hallway he stood in. He gave me a sympathetic look. I hated it.

"You look like shit Dezz." He said gently and sniffed the air with a wrinkle of his nose. "Have you been drinking?"

Funny how with ex's you didn't so much want to strangle them then get swallowed up by the wallpaper or hugged and petted by the same person berating you, just so you wouldn't feel as worthless as they made you feel.

"It's a free country. Now I'm going to repeat myself. What are you doing here?" I kept the door between the two of us as I looked at him through the small portion I'd opened. The same door I'd held open for Joker.

"I want to talk." He said quietly.

"Then talk." I said shortly, I didn't want him to be nice to me, not like this.

He looked past me to the practically trashed apartment pointedly. "I think it was better we did this inside, Dezz."

"I wouldn't want to chance the dog getting out." I said darkly, eyes narrowed. Oh god, how a part of me so badly wanted to let the 'dog' get out with Elliot in the way of his food dish.

But when Elliot stared at me blankly, oblivious that I had two dangerous men hanging out in my bedroom and the threat that presented I just sighed and left the door open for him as I trudged back inside to start the task of cleaning up the liquor bottles and shredded clothing.

I could feel him too close behind me as I switched off the tv.

"Speak." I snapped.

"I got settled in at the hospital and my paychecks coming in pretty constant now. So I was hoping you'd take some of it and get yourself out of the Narrows, Dezz. You're starting to blend in with the locals a little too much." He said critically as his eyes swept up and down my frame unkindly.

It was a simple, common as hell arrangement of words. But it still hit me like a punch to the gut and I spun around fast enough to make myself dizzy before pushing him back with all the force my body had in it. He tripped, startled and fell on his ass. And I was almost disappointed in an empty way that he didn't spring back to his feet with a laugh or quirk of a brow at me. He just gawked.

"Get out." I growled, or tried, I was pathetic at intimidating.

But for once I managed it as Elliot scrambled back to his feet and took a step back.

"I just want to help you!" He argued , holding his hand up as if he were staving off a bear instead of his 5'6 ex-girlfriend.

I was fuming and he wasn't helping. "You mean like how you got the job at the Gotham teaching hospital and didn't even mention me to the head nurse when I asked you to? And then lied when I put you down as a reference?" I demanded and chucked a pillow at him. It wasn't funny as he dodged it.

"You weren't qualified enough," He spat. "They only take the best."

His frame straightened a little too proudly and I gaped before I growled and chucked an empty bottle at him. He was not so great at dodging those and yelped as it hit him in the shoulder.

"And I'm not!?" I demanded. "I was good enough to be in your ER during some of the most important surgeries in Gotham General for the childrens ward, or was it just because you got to fuck me on the same table you saved lives on. Because now that I think about it, you're a fucking egotistical bastard for talking me into that!"

He seem to grasp at straws for something to say. And ended up falling back on an excuse he'd used for most of the arguments we got in after I lost my job.

"I know you've had it hard baby, ever since the Joker..."

"The Joker is not the reason you left me!" I yelled, cutting him off. My face crumbling a little. "He's not the reason you told me to find a new place to live instead of offering to have me move in with you. And he's sure as hell not the reason I didn't let you get what you deserved when you knocked on the fucking door!"

The look of shock in Elliot's eyes was wonderful and unsatisfying at the same time. I was breathing too hard, the adrenaline and strange righteous joy of saying all that rushing through my body making me shake a little.

The look he gave something over my shoulder was almost priceless and I wondered exactly what had managed to put it there when warm, bare arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me against a very hard chest in a way that was protective and had my mind reeling with one simple fact, _Bruce Wayne is shirtless, Bruce Wayne is shirtless, Bruce Wayne is shirtless..._

"I came out to see what all the commotion was about," came a very deep baritone drawl in my ear as if he'd just woken up from a great round of sex. Which, by all rights, he had. It just hadn't played a starring role. Though from the fixed set of Elliot's stare the man holding me was not looking at me as he spoke. "Are you all right, Dezzy?"

I was in a pleasant limbo of shock and happy fuzzies that after all the feminine hype I was finally understanding how it had started when Bruce tightened his arms a little around me to bring me out of it. The shaking got a little worse before it got better.

I jolted before nodding my head, swallowing down the rise of emotion that rose up in my throat as reality, or something resembling it came back. "I'm fine."

"Mr. Wayne." Elliot said in cold greeting to the man wrapped around me like a possessive lover. I could definitely get used to this.

"Dr. Michaels." Bruce responded in deadpan.

I didn't want to know how he knew Elliot's name.

Then a very dangerous question rose to my lips. "Bruce, where's the dog?!" I asked in an almost squeak.

The playboy chuckled and I swear, I never wanted to hear that sound again unless he was fully dressed and not pressed against my body. Damn you, Batman, I was getting you back for this!

"Don't worry, getting out will keep him busy for a while." He assured.

But I was too damn paranoid to take his word for it and looking past one very large bicep I saw that the vigilante had tied the handle of my bedroom door to the adjacent bathroom door handle with the remains of Joker's ruined Batman shirt.

It looked like a fantastic solution really. That was until I saw a very thin knife poke out through the space between door and frame and start to slide up and down in search of the fabric containing our 'dog'.

Turning back to the two men who were still sizing up each other as if they were about to go three rounds of celebrity deathmatch, I dug my fingers into Bruce's arm. "I think Elliot was just leaving."

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A/N: Reviews make me a happy girl!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own only Dezzy and Elliot, the other boys belong to DC and Warner Brothers.

A/N: Okay, this is a little angsty, compared to the other chapters. Still hope you all enjoy it. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. XD

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"No, I don't actually think I was." Elliot announced and I panicked a little as he stepped forward and I could feel every muscle in Bruce's chest and arms tighten and coil.

Was it strange that I was more terrified of the two men on my side of the ring? Because the strength in the vigilante's body, and the feral growl coming from the man trapped in my bedroom reminded me what they were both capable of.

"Elliot, you've done enough," I spat, but there was a note of concern that I couldn't help if it managed to worm it's way through. Watching your ex brutally murdered was a great fantasy every dumped girlfriend like to imagine. But so close to that reality, the idea actually made me sick. "Just leave."

I don't know why they were protecting me. It boggled my cynical little mind and I dug my fingers harder into Bruce's arm in warning, though it had about as much effect as a pitbull with a locked jaw around the throat of some bleeding thing.

Elliot ignored me and looked directly at Bruce. "I think it's fair enough to warn you, even if we both know you'll drop her in a week with your track record, Wayne," He said through a nasty smile. And I held my breath for the insult and hoped to hell Elliot wouldn't press charges against the vigilante. "She only goes after the rich ones."

And in a flash of blind fury I realized Bruce was not tensing to attack the man, he was doing so to restrain me from doing it myself as I tried to lunge at the arrogant bastard and tear out his eyes.

The bedroom door rattled like there was a bear behind it as the Joker tried to force it open and the smug look dropped for a second as I saw fear in those charming eyes as Elliot took a step back. "What kind of fucking dog do you own?" He demanded.

I couldn't help but smirk as Bruce held me back and kept an eye on the already weak door at the same time. Could he stop us both?

"They warned us he might be a little feral. But I think that's what's charming about him."

Bruce's voice cut through the threat as I felt his arms loosen a bit. All I needed was a little more slack and those pretty blues were as good as gone.

"Really? Well lets hopes I was better at keeping her then you were, Michaels." Bruce chuckled with an edge before I felt one hand let go.

I mentally cheered until it seized my chin and my eyes wide as he turned me up to meet him in a kiss. I was so shocked and rigid for a moment I could have been the poster girl for sexual harassment. He shifted and, well, he wasn't called a playboy for nothing. And I all but went slack and obedient in his arms.

Elliot who?

I felt him smirk against my lips and realized all too soon what he'd done when I had lost the will power to attack my ex. Cunning bastard!

"I hate you." I growled pathetically at him as he pulled back.

"No you don't." He growled back under his breath with amusement.

Damn, okay, his growl was better and he was right.

Elliot snorted and that was unfortunate for him. Because he had both our attentions again, and somebody else's too as the sound of a knife sawing against fabric caught my attention. And Bruce's as well it seemed as he pulled away completely and grabbed Elliot by the upper arm and forcibly march him towards the door.

"I believe the lady said you were leaving." Bruce announced and gave me a look that quiet plainly said 'stay put' as both he and Elliot disappeared out into the hall, Elliot raising a huge bitch fit the whole way that most definitely got the attention of every person in the Narrows for a few blocks. Nothing better in the Narrows then a good domestic dispute no cop would dare make an appearance at.

Three things ran through my head in quick order as I stared at the empty hallway. Thank god it was over, Bruce Wayne just kissed me and HOLY SHIT, BRUCE WAYNE IS PUBLICLY ESCORTING MY EX OUT WITHOUT A SHIRT ON!

Shut up, I have drama delay!

I was about to go after them when the snap of tension strung fabric made me turn in time to see _the _Joker come storming out of the room, knife in hand and a viscous snarl stretched over his scarred mouth.

Forget greasepaint and green hair, Joker honestly didn't need it. I understood more then ever that the whole clown getup was a veil of understatement to hide the always present mad man, the same way I'd felt Batman hiding just under the skin of Bruce Wayne moments ago.

His poison green eyes narrowed at the open door, he was was breathing like a riled bull through his nose and there I stood like a startled deer in headlights as he shifted his gaze to me.

I couldn't back away fast enough, the Joker met me step for step. Stalking me with the knife dancing between his fingers, shoulders hunched like a cat ready to pounce, brow lowered. Flash backs of last night as my back hit the wall and the mans bar hand closed over my throat and held me still.

His nostrils flared as he sniffed at the air and I could smell it to. Bruce's cologne on my skin. I was royally fucked.

The Joker had not been out to help me. I'd kissed his boyfriend. I touched something that belonged to the Joker. My expendability had been weighed and found wanting.

"_Mine_." Was the only low, guttural word he got out as the knife pressed against he base of my throat. And I knew exactly what he meant.

Or at least I thought I did.

The sudden, almost painful smash of his lips against mine was most certainly a fucking mixed message.

Ever wondered what being kissed in a way that was so ridiculously terrifying and thrilling at the same time felt like? It sends electrical jolts to nerve endings you never knew you had and whether you meant to or not you responded in a very positive way.

His tongue darted out across my lips and it wasn't hard to figure out what he was doing. He was tasting his lover on my lips and I wondered if it was somehow permission for the Joker to snog the hell out of me against a wall if Bruce had done it first?

As I was gripping at the front of my own scrubs and tried to keep away from the bite of a knife blade and against a strangely mangled set of lips I heard a creak of wood just as the knife was changing angle to do god knows what.

The Joker suddenly lost all the feral tension in his body as he knife fell away and he purred against my mouth, telling me exactly who was standing there watching us.

Anger boiled up in my gut and chest as I gripped the mad man tighter and bit down on his lip as hard as I could. He pulled away with a yelp/groan and I dashed past him like a bolt.

"You are both a twisted brand of bastard! I hope you know that!" I snapped at them both before slamming my bedroom door in both their faces. I locked it only for the viscous nod of satisfaction I gave the act.

_..._I really hoped neither of them wanted to follow me. I really liked the illusion of that tiny little latch stopping them.

I honestly expected furniture to be breaking pretty soon, dishes to be smashing. Goodbye faithful tv, you served me well through all those seasons of Supernatural. Farewell deposit I never expected to see again anyway. I figured I'd be moving soon, by very formal and handcuffed escort after my landlord saw the chaos that was about to commence.

But there was no thunderous clash of titans, not even a shift of feet. Which was why I nearly jumped out of my skin when Bruce's voice emitted directly from the other side of the door.

"I think we need to talk." Bruce said calmly, as if he had not just caught me kissing his boyfriend, or for that matter kissed me not long before that.

"You think?!" I demanded.

God, what vindictive bitch had been re-writing my normal like for the last few days? It was like an episode of ' This Is Your Life' without the safety net of a studio audience.

"You know, I'm starting to remember why my mother said not to open the door for strangers. I'm going to edit that a bit. I'm not opening the door for men!" I snapped, and crossed my arms over my chest. I wasn't planning on budging. "What even gave either of you the right?!" I demanded.

There was a pitiful scratching at the bottom of the door along with some whimpering and I didn't even hesitate this time to aim a kick right for it as Joker yelped and fell back.

"I just want to talk," Bruce repeated firmly. And I believed him. But I was done talking. I would be looking into one of those convents that made you take a vow of silence at the first opportunity, with every hope that they were listed in the yellow pages.

"Well I don't! That's all I've been doing today and all I want right now is for you both to be gone by the time I open this door!"

"_Dezzy._" Joker purred in mock pleading and it set me off again, I could taste his blood on my tongue mixed with tequila and sprite. It wasn't funny anymore.

"Take the ass clown with you and get out, Wayne!" I shouted.

There was a scuffle this time and waited through the voices too muffled and low for me to to hear. I tensed, ready to dart back the moment either of them jumped at the door like a jack in the box on crack. Because, you know, that whole 'Here's Johnny!' bullshit? I was not in the mood for it right now.

But soon, there was nothing. And the silence spooked me more then anything else.

I managed to swallow down the golf ball in my throat and continue my so far, life sustaining stupid streak and opened the door a crack. It swung open the rest of the way by itself after the earlier abuse it had taken and displayed a shocking scene to me.

The apartment was empty...they'd really gone.

...

Dammit, I'd really liked those scrubs.

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A/N: Reviews are love and make me happy. X3


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: The boys do not belong to me, only Dezzy does.

A/N: I'm back! Woohoo! Short chapter to start us off but more soon.

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**Being Stalked By Psychopaths Log-Day 1  
**  
I should have known...

I wasn't even given the time to keep my liquor cabinet stalked to my desires, my own clothes in my closet. Let alone my apartment clean and myself un-accosted before I got a package in the mail. Hand delivered by my landlord who, even with all my extra help with his interior decorating had not yet forgiven me for having the news reporters pounding on every door in the building as they looked for the apartment Bruce Wayne had escorted a man out of the day before. Not a good source of attention to a place that housed more drug dealers and snack happy customers then a 7-11 at two in the morning.

I was more annoyed then surprised to find the Wayne Enterprises name on the package, but the offer inside was possibly the most ridiculous thing I'd ever been served. The next day the delivery boy came calling for the paperwork.

All right assholes, game on!

---

**Being Stalked By Psychopaths Log- Day 3**

I knew it wouldn't last. The fucking bastards, I knew they wouldn't let me just get on with my life!

Whether it was the paperwork or the delivery boy I'd been using as target practice for the last three days. I just knew it.

Now it wasn't as if the paperwork was of the blackmailing nature. Turns out Bruce was using a shinier form of bribery. He was trying to give me a job. The first offer was to be the nurse to his personal physician. I reminded the man to check my qualifications with a red marker over the original document. Returned by way of the same, now frowning delivery boy. The next offer was head nurse for Wayne Pediatrics. To which, I admit, I wanted very badly. Enough that I couldn't wipe away the spot of drool from the front page of the packet no matter how I tried. But I was also determined to make the man sweat.

So why was I abusing the delivery boy when the rule clearly states 'don't shoot the messenger'?

Nothing directly. He hadn't even said boo to me for the many trips he'd made back and forth empty handed to my apartment. Except, for however attractive and none threatening he had appeared, the bastard hadn't had the decency to make sure every green strand was tucked under his baseball cap. And I'd lined up projectiles on my window sill for this very offense. So for every green curl I saw he got lobbed with something.

Okay, more like I threw like a special ed pitcher and he simply danced the fuck around it like Fred Astaire.

One day I actually managed to hit him, resulting in the immediate need to duck as some bit of trash form the sidewalk came sailing into the apartment in retaliation and far more accuracy.

----

**Being Stalked By Psychopaths Log-Day 6**

I honestly wasn't sure how much longer I could keep this up. With both of them keeping a constant eye or ear in my direction it was hard to even leave the apartment for interviews. Interviews I was going to less and less the more my eyes traveled to the job packet on my wobbly little kitchen table.

It was more then just a job and I wasn't stupid enough to miss that. Signing my name gave both Batman and Joker permission to be in my life. And the more I thought about it, the more appealing the entire situation sounded.

Usually this little defeatist attitude was chastised with a curse and a few vodka coolers I'd managed to leave the apartment long enough to obtain along with food. But as the buzz set in, it got kind of lonely without someone chattering away in my ear, not to mention fucking boring. It was six days after the packet was delivered, the fourth day I'd stared at it in a bleary haze that I made a sat attempt to wobble over to it and sign in a messy, but passable signature. The buzz lasted long enough to get the packet in the envelope and set on my doorstep.

Then I went to sleep, with little dollar signs and the faint memory of what those two little twisted smiles felt like against mine floating in my head.

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**Being Stalked By Psychopaths Log- Day 7  
**  
The next day with a raging headache trying to pound down the sides of my skull in indignant retribution, I woke up realizing that one side of my bed was dipping extremely. Then someone laughed.

"_Dezzy_..."

Five seconds later the rickety ass bed almost went ass over end as I was pounced.

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P.S. Reviews are love 3


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